The Rising Dark
by PhantomPurpleWolf
Summary: Harpie Jones and Morgana Sedgewick are at Hogwarts nineteen years after the events of Deathly Hallows. All seems safe...but there are sinister forces at work, ghosts of the past re-enacting terrible events. And when the apocalypse is just around the corner, can Harpie and Morgana win the deadly games they are forced to play and save the only one who can stop it before it's too late


THIS IS MY FIRST EVER HP FANFIC, SO...YEAH. . AND THIS IS THE FIRST IN THE CHRONICLES OF THE RISING DARK, MORE TO COME! (PROBS GONNA TAKE AAAAAAAAAGES THO)

PLEASE R&R, CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM WELCOME.

I DONT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF THAT STUFF.

* * *

The girl stood on the platform, narrowly avoiding being knocked over by the neverending stream of people. She checked and double-checked the number on her ticket, looking up at the signs and frowning. 8...9...10.

No 9 3/4.

She considered going back to the help desk, and even took a couple of steps towards it, but the man behind the counter gave her a hostile and wary look. She decided against it, not wanting to risk any further humiliation. She scanned the crowd for anyone else who looked even remotely like they were going to the same place as her. She spotted a dark-haired boy stood next to a stern-faced woman wearing a vulture-topped hat. The boy was trying unsucessfully to detain a slimy-looking toad.

_An owl, a cat, or a toad. _

The girl pushed her trolley forwards, shrugging her shoulders to stop her battered hiker's backpack from slipping down. _I need to be careful. _she thought, _I don't need it to happen again. _

_"_Excuse me, " she asked tenatively, "do you know the way to platform nine and three quarters?"

"You must be going to Hogwarts. Are you on your own?" replied the woman, the vulture bobbing up and down as she spoke.

The girl inwardly sighed with relief. She nodded, glad to have found someone else going the same way as her.

"Stay with us, then. Oh, this is my great - grandson, Geoffrey. It's his first year too." Geoffrey (or toad-boy, as she would now permanently see him) mumbled a "hello."

"And you are?" asked vulture-woman.

"Harpie." she replied "Harpie Jones."

"Well, Harpie, you see that barrier over there?"

Harpie nodded again.

"Walk through it. Run if you have to. You'll come straight through on the other side. Me and Geoffrey will follow you."

Vulture-woman noticed her incredulous look.

"I'm not joking. You know what you are, so it shouldn't be that hard to believe."

Harpie gradually stepped towards the barrier, pushing the trolley in front of her. She saw someone else go through the bricks, and that was the final spurt she needed. She broke into a sprint, ignoring the protests of the cat balanced on her trolley and closed her eyes, waiting for the impact. Instead, she found herself standing on a crowded platform. The sign above the tracks read nine and three quarters.

Perfect.

Geoffrey and vulture-woman appeared behind her.

Vulture-woman ushered them onto the train, Geoffrey managing to lose his toad in the process.

"Harpie, save Geoffrey a seat will you?" Harpie was all too glad to leave vulture-woman behind, as she doubted that she would have lasted five minutes longer without laughing at the way the vulture bobbed up and down with even the slight. It looked ludicrous to say the least.

She dragged her trunk to the nearest seat, somehow managing to shove it into the luggage rack. She put the cat basket on the seat next to her, opening the door of the basket and letting Shadow, her cat, crawl onto her lap. Geoffrey re-joined her after a while, trying to drag his trunk whilst keeping a hold on the toad. He was not doing well.

He eventually managed to push it into the luggage rack, dropping his toad on the seat with an unpleasant squelch.

Harpie moved Shadow's basket onto the floor, and Geoffrey sat down heavily opposite her.

"Hi," Geoffrey said nervously. She nodded in reply. "Um...my dad's a teacher. Herbology. Um...Do you really need to keep that thing on?" he asked, pointing at her backpack.

"Yes," she replied. "at least until we get to Hogwarts."

Geoffrey nodded, judging by her icy tone that it was best not to continue the conversation.

* * *

The silence was interrupted after about half an hour by a weaselly blond boy flanked by two others who looked like they had to be at least part boulder.

He surveyed their compartment for a few seconds before noticing the toad. He snorted.

"You seriously brought a _toad?" _

"Why are you here?" Harpie asked tiredly, leaning back against the window.

"I'm here because..." the blond faltered.

"Carry on. We're not stopping you."

"I'm here because I heard that some idiot brought a toad, and I wanted to see if that was true."

"No, you're here because you wanted to go through all the compartments and decide who to pick on. You simply invented the toad excuse when you were stuck in a corner. Who even are you, anyway?"

"I'm Scorpius Malfoy, and my father will not to be pleased to hear that I am being picked on by would be Hufflepuffs. He works for the ministry, you know."

"And I frankly couldn't care less. If I'm supposed to be mightily impressed, or cower in fear, then I'm sorry but you'll have to try something else." Harpie's voice was laced with venom. "And anyway, why is it such a bad thing to be Hufflepuff? As far as I know, they're perfectly respectable. "

"All the other houses are weak. Its Slytherin that always comes out on top."

"From what I heard, it was a Gryffindor beat Voldemort."

All the others in the room stiffened at the name. A girl walking past grinned at her, and winked. Harpie immediately liked her, and she lingered outside of the door.

"Flint, Goyle, we're leaving. She's clearly not worth it."

"No no no, don't leave on my behalf."

"I said we're _leaving." _

_"_But.." stuttered Goyle, pointing at something behind Harpie.

"Leaving? Now?" They turned to go through the door, but it swung shut, locking.

"What the..."

Harpie stood up. She was tall. Scarily tall.

She strode over to the door, opening it with ease.

"Problem? Or were you just too weak?"

The three ran out of the compartment, and jumped as the other girl went "Boo!"

Harpie and Geoffrey laughed, as the new girl sidled in the door. She had dark hair in a fashionable pixie cut, with a white streak at the front.

"Don't you think that white is a little too much for school?" aked Harpie smiling.

The girl shrugged. "It's always been like this. Anyway, you can hardly talk. Did you dip your head in a bucket of paint or something? It's the colour of a London bus!" It was true. Her hair was the most startling shade of red imaginable.

"It's always been like this." she grinned " I'm Harpie, by the way."

"Morgana," the new girl introduced herself. "Morgana Sedgewick, but you can call me Mog. Or Moggs. Or Moggy. I don't mind. So," she turned, speaking to Geoffrey, "Why _did _you bring the toad?" His face went almost as red as Harpie's hair, and he mumbled something that sounded like "Mdminmgnm."

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that."

"My dad made me get it, okay? He said that he had one when he was at Hogwarts, and..." he trailed off, staring at something behind Harpie.

Harpie glanced back, biting her lip and pulling her backpack up again. _They can't see...as far as they know you're just a nice, normal girl with strawberry-coloured hair and attitude problems. _

The train clattered to a halt.

"Looks like we're here." she said, flicking her hair out of her eye. Harpie scooped Shadow back into his basket, reaching to retrieve her trunk. "There's no need," said Mog breezily, "our stuff's going to be taken to our rooms. You can just leave it on the train."

They piled out of the carriage, where a huge man was yelling "Firs' years this way!" the three of them walked in his clambered onto a boat. Morgana reached for an oar, but found that there were none.

"How-" she began, but was soon cut off as the boats started gliding across the lake.

Harpie laughed. "Magic."

* * *

They stepped onto land and through the doors, into a candlelit hall. An old woman was stood there waiting for them, leaning on a cane.

"That's the headmistress, Professor McGonagall." whispered Morgana, leaning down "Apparently she's really strict."

Harpie glowered up at her. "Stop that."

"What, whispering?"

"No. Being so..._tall._ I'm normally the tallest one. I've only just realized that I'm shorter than you."

She grinned mischieviously. "Three inches is a big difference, my friend."

McGonagall approached the two of them, and they froze where they stood.

"Miss Jones," she said briskly, "I would have liked a word with you, but we're already pushed for time. Will you see me after the sorting?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall." Harpie chirped.

"Miss Sedgewick?"

"Yes Professor McGonagall?"

"Why is your hair like that?"

"I can't help it, Professor. It's always been this way."

McGonagall scowled.

"I can make exceptions in the case of Miss Jones, but unless you prove that it genuinely cannot be changed within this week you will have to alter the colour. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall..."

After she was gone, Morgana hissed " _I __told you she was strict." _

The first-years poured through another set of doors where they stood in single file down the centre of the Great Hall. A battered and burnt-looking hat was sat on a low stool in front of the staff table. It had to be the Sorting Hat. McGonagall called out "Abrey, Johanna." Abrey, Johanna scuttled forward from somewhere near the back of the line. The hat had no sooner touched her head than it had yelled "Ravenclaw!" a cheer went up from the Ravenclaw table and Johanna scurried off to join them. First-years gradually filed off to their tables, until it reached "Jones, Harpie."

She stepped forward gingerly, her footfalls echoing around the room. The hat fell down over her eyebrows, and roared "Gryffindor!". She felt the weight come off her eyebrows and ran to the table where the Gryffindors were cheering, albeit looking slightly fazed by her backpack.

She watched with fascination as more went up. She felt confused as the room went silent as "Potter, Albus" was called.

She watched him. He seemed nervous. He was small and nervous, nothing too special. But the minute "GRYFFINDOR!" was called, there was the sound like an explosion. Complete cheers. Everybody was happy. Then it was Morgana's turn to go up. The hat chewed it's lip, and all was silent. "Slytherin...no, Ravenclaw...no...GRYFFINDOR!" the cheers were half hearted, and the hall buzzed with whispers.

"_How is that possible? Why would it do that? Who is she?"_

Morgana sat next to Harpie, who stared at her. So did the whole table.

* * *

Harpie flopped onto the bed up in the Gryffindor tower. As Morgana had promised, all of her stuff was there. Shadow was even curled up asleep on her pillow.

"Don't you think it's weird what happened back there?" she asked, staring up at the ceiling.

"No." snapped Morgana. "Its not. The hats old. Its mind is probably going."

"I only said-"

"I'm tired. See you in the morning. Oh, and you might want to take off that stupid backpack of yours. Wouldn't want you to break your back before its even started."

"And I thought _I _had attitude issues..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing..."

Harpie waited until she heard Morgana's breathing even out, then she slowly stood up, slipping down into the common room. She stared at the empty fire, wishing that there could be wood, and coal, and flames. The hearth flared orange, a pile of wood dropped in.

"Still got it, Harp." she murmured to herself, staring into the fire. _Maybe Morgana's right, _she thought, _maybe I should lose the backpack. I can't keep it on for seven years. Sooner or later, their going to find out. McGonagall said that I could do whatever I wanted with it, that it was my choice, and mine alone...No. She's right. I need to lose it. Might as well beat the rumours to it..._Having made her decision, she started to work the straps down her shoulders. She was about to undo the final clip when she heard something in the shadows. Someone was there...

"Hello?" someone stepped out of the darkness, sinking into a chair. It was the boy from earlier, the one who had recieved all the cheers.

"Hi," she said, relieved, "Albus, right?"

"Yeah." he said, the flames reflecting in his eyes. "And you're...Harpie?"

"Yeah." she sat in the chair opposite, but she didn't lean back. Instead, she hunched forward with her elbows on her knees. Albus stared into space for a second, his brow wrinkling.

"I swear I've heard that name before...my friend Rose might have mentioned it or something..."

"Well, "Harpie" isn't really a common name. Jones is, though. Anyway, how would Rose know my name?"

Albus shrugged. "Probably read it somewhere. Her mum - my aunt - always encourages us to read. Not like Rose needs it, though. She will read literally _anything." _

_"_I think she's in my dormitory then. Red hair...had a book about Transfiguration or Animagi something."

"_A History of Magical Transformation_," supplied Albus, "Yeah, that would be her."

"So," said Harpie, sweeping her hair out of her eyes, "they were certainly pleased when you were Gryffindor. Hardly surprising, really. What would have happened if the hat said "Slytherin"?"

"I don't know. My dad was Gryffindor...and his dad...it goes back a long way."

"And I could swear I've heard the name "Potter" before. Don't tell me..."

He waited, as she wracked her brain. her eyes widened as she realised.

"Wow. Your dad's _Harry Potter?"_

_"_Yeah.."

"_The _Harry Potter?"

"Yeah..."

"Wow."

He rolled his eyes. "_Everyone _says that. Why does everyone say that? It's so annoying!"

"Fame has a high price, Albus. Thank _God _that I don't have any."

"Good point. You _could _be famous, though."

Harpie smiled "I think I'd know by now."

"Not necessarily. Rose knew your name before she'd even met you. You were in a book. The only thing is, what for?"

The fire spat sparks, the loud crack disturbing the peace.

"That is something I know, and me alone." she said, her tone icy. "Put it this way, the whole _school _will probably know by the end of the week." She got up and stalked back to her dorm, but one of the straps on her backpack caught on the door. She tried to wrench it free, but there was a tearing sound as the final strap broke. The bag tumbled to the floor. _Oh, no. Stupid, stupid, stupid! It's like the V and A all over again..._She paused, thinking for a second. _No. Not stupid. Not stupid at all. The V and A was full of _muggles..._but I'm safe here. There won't be gasps and stares and "Oh my God is that real?". Well, there might be, but at least this time for me it wont be "oh no I need to get out right NOW!" _Harpie picked up the bag and carried it back to her dorm. She threw it at the foot of her bed, laughing. Morgana stood there, arms folded.

"I-" she began, but Morgana broke into a smile.

" I just _knew _you would. I met Rose and Albus on the train. Her book said something about you."

"Wait...you knew all this time?"

"As soon as I saw you I thought "_That has to be her". _And I was right! I mean, look at this. " She picked up the book from the floor, flicking through it until she found what she wanted. "_Alexandria Jones , an animagus who took the form of a Summer Tanager bird, fell victim to a hex that meant that she would stay in the form of the bird for the rest of her life. However, the hex went wrong and Alexandria died later that day. She was pregnant when she died, and the child was saved, but suffered disfigurement. Harpie Jone's (the child's) whereabouts is unkown." _That's why your hair is bright red! That's why you wore the backpack! And _that's _what your initials stand for!" Morgana pointed to her trunk which had her initials on in gold writing "HTJ, or..._Harpie Tanager Jones!" _she finished triumphantly, throwing the book onto Rose's bed, prompting a muffled "Ow!" as it slid down onto the floor.

"Okay, yeah. I'm the Tanager Girl. You caught me." She flexed her shoulder blades, spreading the red-and-black wings that she had been hiding for ages. How long had it been since the last time this happened? _Too long, _thought Harpie, shaking the dust out of the feathers.

"Wow...can you _fly?" _asked Morgana in awe, stroking the feathers.

"Can _I _fly?" she laughed, "I'm better than _Krum! _And that's when I'm having a bad day!" She launched herself upwards, swooping over Morgana's head. She flew around the room a few times before perching on one of the bed posts. Neither of them had noticed Rose sitting up to pick up the fallen book. She stopped. And stared.

"Oh my God..."

Harpie noticed her then, and with a shrill squeak wobbled on the bed post, falling to the floor.

"Harpie! I'm _so _sorry..."

"No, it's fine, Rose. Really. I'm okay."

"Are you _sure? _It's quite high..."

Harpie shrugged. "I've fallen from higher. Seriously, when you're me, seven feet is a baby step."

"You have wings..."

"I noticed."

"You have _wings..."_

_"_Yes, I do. I have wings. I am the same Harpie Tanager Jones as the one in your book. Now that that's clear, I would like to get some sleep,as it is past midnight and I have classes tomorrow."

"Yes, of course." mumbled Rose, sinking back into her pillow. "Wow..._the _Harpie Jones..."

Morgana raised an eyebrow. "You've certainly made an impression, Harp. I bet that tomorrow everyone will be asking for your autograph."

"That had _better_ be sarcasm." she said, climbing into bed.

"You never know, _mon petit fraise. _It could happen. I might just tell them all that your giving them out anyway..."

Harpie scowled. "Two things: _never _call me a little strawberry again, and _never, _repeat _never _tell anyone that I'm giving out autographs."

"Fine." said Morgana. "I'll call you a little rasperry instead."

"You don't even know how to say that in French..."

"No, but I _c__an_ say it in English."

They both laughed. They had no idea of the danger to come...

* * *

I HAVE JUST REALIZED THIS IS THE LONGEST CHAPTER I HAVE EVER WRITTEN...

ANYWAYS, LIKE I SAID PLEASE R&R, COZ REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPEEEE!

AU REVOIR,

LE VIOLET LOUP FANTÔME (WHO CAN ACTUALLY SPEAK SOME FRENCH, BUT WILL ADMIT TO USING GOOGLE FOR THE "PHANTOM" AND "WOLF" PARTS OF THAT SENTENCE)


End file.
